


Discover Me Discovering You

by mcgarrygirl78



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Drama, F/M, Friendship, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 18:30:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2438594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If this was a one-shot, on the road in a hotel room kinda deal then Hotch wanted to make sure he didn’t dial it in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Discover Me Discovering You

**Author's Note:**

> This is my 356th Hotch/Prentiss. West Point doesn’t really sell beer, not that it matters. But if they did I’d probably be a happier girl. The title comes from the John Mayer song, _Your Body is a Wonderland_.

It was almost midnight when Emily heard the knock on her door. She wasn’t surprised when it came. She got up from the floor where she’d been doing some yoga to relax and went over to look through the peephole. Opening the door, she put on a smile.

“Hey.”

“I come bearing gifts.” Hotch held up the bag and the six-pack of beer.

“They say the way to a girl’s heart is through her stomach.”

“They do?”

“Get in here, Agent Hotchner.”

Hotch smiled too, walking across the threshold. Emily was barely dressed but he wasn’t sure what to say about it. He saw her yoga mat and hoped he didn’t interrupt her exercising. Of course it was worth it. She was dressed in yoga pants and a sports bra. He had a clear view of the phoenix surrounded by a ring of fire on her back.

“I didn’t know that you had a tattoo.” He said, trying not to watch her bend over for her yoga mat. He failed.

“Hmm?” she turned to look at him.

“You have a tattoo.”

“I got it a long time ago. I'm glad I put thought into it, I won't even tell you all the people I know spending hundreds if not thousands of dollars to get bad choices erased from their bodies.”

“So no high school sweetheart for you huh?”

Emily didn’t like what he said so she chose to ignore it. She knew Hotch was doing his best at being jovial but he didn’t have to be if he was so bad at it. She liked him just the way he was. When he was being himself he rarely said silly things like that. Still, she wouldn’t kick him too hard when he was trying.

What he was trying to do she really had no idea. They had been in Philadelphia for four days attempting to profile a serial killer before he struck again. For three months, on the night of the new moon, a girl was murdered. All the victims were African-American, between the ages of 15 and 18.

The murders took place in a concentrated area of the city known as The Bottom. It was a working class and poor area of West Philadelphia but gentrifying quickly. The rash of murders had the powers that be scared that yuppies were going to pull up stakes, even if they weren't the intended targets. Finding dead girls on the street didn’t make for good business.

This was the second night Hotch had come to her room. The night before last he was all-business, mostly. He wanted to talk about the case, the evidence, the police, and the press coverage. It seemed to Emily as if he just wanted to get the thoughts and ideas out of his head so he could sleep. She listened, gave her thoughts, and after about 90 minutes he said goodnight. He’d never come to her room before, not in any city for any reason. Now he was there again, and he bought food and beer.

“What did you bring?” she asked.

“Well, I figured since we were in Philadelphia I had to get a cheesesteak. I was thinking Pat’s or Geno’s but Detective Capshaw took me back to West Philly. He said the best cheesesteaks were from the places you never see on TV. We went to a place called West Point. Who was I to argue?”

“It smells good.”

“I have it on good authority that they're the best in the city.”

“Well come sit down.” Emily smiled.

Hotch went over to the table, putting down the cheesesteak and the six-pack. The TV was on but the volume was turned down. _Law and Order_ was just beginning. He knew exactly which one it was from the first sixty seconds. Something told him that Emily probably did as well. They had so many things in common, why would loving Law and Order be any different?

“Do you know which episode this is?” he asked offhand as he watched her open the cheesesteak. There was something about the way she smiled around food that gave Hotch butterflies in his stomach.

“Huh?”

“ _Law and Order_ …do you know which episode this is?”

“Um, I think it’s the one with Peter Riegert.” She replied.

“If memory serves he’s been in a lot of them.”

“OK, it’s the one with Peter Riegert and Mary Beth Hurt. The plot involves male on male sexual harassment. This is actually one of my favorites; Mary Beth Hurt is phenomenal.”

“She did an episode of SVU once…” Hotch started.

“ _Greed_.” Emily replied.

“OK, that was scary.” He grinned, taking the half of cheesesteak she handed him.

“Sorry.” She smiled. “My sister is a huge fan of that show and that happens to be her favorite episode. I know its weird having a favorite episode of a show that’s been on for a billion years, but that’s hers. I can't get her to admit it’s because she's had a crush on Henry Winkler since he played The Fonz.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, and I never understood it. I was more of a Potsie girl myself but I always secretly crushed on the adorable nerds.” She ate some of the cheesesteak, moaning as her eyes fluttered shut. “Oh my God, soooo good; this is delicious.”

Hotch wanted to test the theory so he took a bite out of his half. Emily was right, it was delicious. For a little while they just ate, Hotch opening two beers so they could enjoy them as well.

“How did you sleep the other night?” she asked, taking a break in eating.

“What do you mean?”

“You came to my room the other night. I think you just wanted to get some things off your chest and you did. How did you sleep after you went back to your room?”

“I don’t often sleep well these days. Cases surely aren’t the only reason.”

“What's going on?”

Hotch shook his head a little but didn’t respond immediately. He ate instead, choosing to put food in his mouth instead of possibly his foot. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, just showing up at her room like this. Emily had every right to ask him questions and if he didn’t want to answer then what was he doing there.

“I suffer from stress-induced insomnia.” He replied, almost relieved that the truth came out and not the patented Hotch response. It was nice to know he still had some control over the other guy.

“That’s why I do yoga.” Emily said. “It doesn’t always work but it has an 85% success rate. I do yoga, a hot bath or shower, and then a little Law and Order or writing in my journal to complete the relaxation process.”

It didn’t surprise Hotch much that she kept a journal. He wondered if she wrote personal things in it about love, loss, and the BAU. Maybe she wrote poems, short stories, or even names like Gideon did. There could be song lyrics or doodles; he could imagine that. Did she write everyday or just when the darkness came too close? That had to be a lot with what they did for a living.

Hotch was never comfortable with writing down his feelings that way. It probably came from years of bottling them up. It was also from his lack of privacy when he was young. If Alexander Hotchner had gotten his hands on some of his older son’s thoughts he might have skinned Hotch alive. He had enough problems; he didn’t need that. Inside of him they were safe and so was he.

“What do you write in your journal?” he asked.

“Anything I feel like it. My thoughts, my feelings, unsent letters, memories…the list is endless. I've got a million of them.”

“Journals?”

“Yeah. I keep them someplace safe where no one can find them. I know this is silly but sometimes I imagine years from now, after I'm gone, my kids will find them and get to see the real me.”

“This isn’t the real you?” Hotch asked.

“Yes, Aaron; I don’t do well with concealing myself. I did that for years and it didn’t lead to anywhere good. At the same time, one has to earn entry into the doorways of deeper meaning.”

“I understand that.”

“Do you?” she looked at him as she sipped her beer.

“Of course I do. I appreciate you letting me in tonight.”

“Well you had food…I'm not dumb.”

“What about the other night?” he asked.

Emily took a step back. What was he expecting her to say? She wasn’t in the mood to play word or mind games. It was late, and despite the intensity of this case, she was actually relaxed.

She only had tonight; tomorrow it was right back into the thick of what was happening all around them. Young women were dead and a killer like this wasn’t going to stop until he was found. The next new moon was in two weeks. Emily Prentiss didn’t have time for anything except focusing on that.

“You knocked on my door.” Emily replied. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“I thought I could talk myself out of…”

“Talk yourself out of what?”

“I want to get to know you Emily. Not just as a profiler but as a person, as a woman.”

“I’d like to get to know you as well.”

“But there's another side of me that wants more. I was trying to talk myself out of going to bed with you the other night.”

“You clearly succeeded.”

“Yes.” Hotch nodded.

“But you came back.”

“Emily…”

“Do you think if maybe you just let yourself go then you could move past whatever barriers are holding you back?”

“I will not take advantage of you.” Hotch replied firmly.

“Hotch, I'm thirty something years old.” She laughed some. “I'm not the ‘take advantage of’ type.”

“So you would just be OK with my coming in here and playing caveman? You could live with my exorcising my demons with your body?”

“Why do you think of it that way? That’s not how I think about it. What if I were the aggressor; would that make it better?”

“What…?”

Hotch wasn’t able to get anything more out before Emily was on him. He could admit that it had happened this way in his dreams a few times. He liked the idea of her taking charge; it fit with her personality. She was out of her chair, in his, on his lap kissing him. Her mouth tasted of steak, beer, and something he couldn’t put words to.

Random words flew through his mind… _heat, passion, sexiness, bad girl, oh my fuckin God_ …but those weren't it either. He moaned into her mouth, pulling her closer as the kisses intensified. Hotch needed to put a stop to this, it wasn’t right. He was her boss and they shouldn’t be doing something like this no matter how good it felt at the moment.

“Ohhh God.” The words escaped Hotch’s mouth in a breathless tumble as Emily stroked the bulge in his dress pants. He was still dressed like an FBI agent, minus the jacket and tie. That’s all he dropped off at his room before going straight to Emily’s. He didn’t want the cheesesteak to get cold. He didn’t want to lose his confidence and end up eating alone.

“Tell me what you want.” She whispered against his lips before she bit the bottom one.

Hotch grimaced, gripping her hips tightly and thrusting up in the chair.

“I want you. God forgive me, but I do.”

“Then he better forgive me too because I'm having the dirtiest thoughts right now.”

“Emily…”

“Shh.” She put her finger on his lips. Then she stood from the chair, pulled him up, and they made their way over to the bed.

Hotch wasn’t sure if he wanted to take control or give it up completely. If he let Emily have her way he could let go of some of the responsibility. But he might also miss something spectacular and never have a chance to recapture it. If this was a one-shot, on the road in a hotel room kinda deal then Hotch wanted to make sure he didn’t dial it in.

When Emily started undressing him, he came alive. He was just as eager to get her naked as she was to have him that way. Hotch wanted to touch, kiss, caress, and stroke every part of Emily that he could. A gasp came from his throat when he pulled the sports bra off and saw her nipple ring.

The silver hoop through her left nipple called to Hotch. His mouth was hot on her skin and Emily whimpered as she gripped the sheets underneath her. He hardly wanted to stop fondling her…Emily’s body was even better than his imagination. But soon she was stroking him. She was stroking, touching, and pumping his hard cock.

“Oh God, Emily, oh my God.” Hotch pulled away some but it wasn’t because he wanted her to stop. He just didn’t want to come before the fun even started. It sucked to think he might not be able to get it up twice but he was so excited right now.

“I want your cock in my mouth.” She whispered. “I know you want it in my mouth.”

“Oh God, yes.” How could he deny something like that?

No one had ever said something like that to Hotch before. He’d only been with his wife but there were a few times in his life when he’d been accosted by women. Some were shameless but they'd never said anything like that. Not that hearing it from someone he wasn’t interested in would cause the same reaction. Hearing it from Emily almost caused the kind of accident he hadn't had since his early teens.

“Mmm,” he took her hands away from him, holding her wrists in his hand. “But I want to taste you too. I want it so much.”

Emily grinned, pushing Hotch onto his back on the hotel bed. They were staying at the Holiday Inn Express, not the most comfortable beds on the planet. Neither agent cared at the moment. Still wearing that sexy grin, she climbed on him, her trim thighs on either side of his head. Hotch gripped her hips as she bent over and slid his cock into her mouth.

He knew he was probably gripping her too hard as he moaned his pleasure. Hotch would leave his mark on her and somewhere deep in his belly, he liked that. The scent of Emily’s desire soon overtook him and he wanted to make her feel as good as he did. When he first tasted her, it just made him hotter. She was as sweet and tangy as he imagined.

She moaned against his rough skin and when she hummed, Hotch quivered. He slid his fingers inside of her as his mouth called out her name. He called out over and over and over until he was practically whining. He was so close and he felt himself falling through the darkness. Closing his eyes, Hotch saw fireworks. He opened them again, wanted to see her as she swallowed every drop. It was the sexiest thing he ever saw.

“Make me come, Aaron.” She moaned when she finally released him from the delicious torture.

Turnaround was surely fair play; though that wasn’t the only reason Hotch wanted this. He wanted Emily crying out his name. He wanted her gripping his thighs and quivering above him. He wanted her wanton, panting, and desperate for release.

Her fingers pressed deep into his skin as her orgasm plowed through her with the intensity of a freight train. Hotch rolled onto his side so that she could fall onto the bed and not the floor. Breaking a bone would definitely kill the heat of the moment. And he wanted more…he wasn’t ready for this to be over.

In his arms again, he kissed her deeply. He tasted himself all over her tongue and it was so hot. Hotch moved his body over hers, spread her thighs wide, touched the skin he just possessed as his own. She stroked her hands down his strong shoulder blades and back as she closed her eyes.

“Open your eyes and look at me.”

“What's the magic word?” she asked, a smile lighting up her whole face and the room.

“Please.”

She did what he asked and Hotch watched her face change as he slid inside of her. She watched his change as well. She watched the look of heavy concentration turn to ecstasy and then to rapture. He thrust when he was in as far as he could go, causing them both of shiver.

“You're not gonna fuck me are you?” she asked.

“No. God, I want to and maybe that can come later but…”

“No more talking.” Emily put a finger on his lips. “Take me Hotch, whatever way you have it in you, just take me.”

Hotch wanted to fuck Emily until she forgot her name. He wanted her to rip a hole in the cheap hotel comforter and scream dirty things that let him know just how good he was fucking her. But now that he was there, close to her, inside of her, Hotch just wanted to connect. He wanted it to be soft, luscious, and beautiful. He wanted to whisper sexy things in her ear and feel her fingers tickle down his spine. He wanted to feel her thighs clench, her body tighten around his, and her clit contract against his fingers.

“Ohhh, oh Aaron, oh God, mmm…” Emily’s back arched. “Don’t stop. Oh God, don’t stop.”

There was no way he would stop now. She was so soft, so wet, and the scent of her want drove him in and out of her at a pitch that was soon frenzied.

“Ohhh baby, you feel so good. Goddamn, Emily, oh shit.”

Hotch lost some of his rhythm but was sure neither one of them cared. He was glad she wasn’t a woman with long fingernails. Surely there would be blood the way she dug into his back, his hips, and then his ass. The feeling of her fingers digging into his skin made him crazy.

“Call me baby again.” Emily panted, knowing she was close to detonation.

She didn’t care if it was all a fantasy; she wanted it her way. She liked the way ‘baby’ rolled off his tongue. Emily hoped that he only ever called her that. If he called Haley that too, not that she had any way of knowing, it would be a mood killer. She needed to stop thinking about it before it before it did just that.

“You're so beautiful, baby.” Hotch stroked her face. “I've wanted you for so long. I don’t know how I held back.”

“Don’t hold back.” She replied.

Hotch kissed her, deeply, as his hand reached between her thighs again. She was coming. He could tell by the way she was breathing, the way she was whimpering, and the way she held onto him. He wanted to fall with her but Hotch braced himself as Emily’s climax rocked her. He wasn’t ready for it to be over yet.

He didn’t know if he’d ever be here again and he wanted it to be right. He wanted to hold on as long as humanly possible. Emily was drained and barely had the strength to hold on anymore. But his body wanted something else, and soon Hotch was falling too.

He was free falling, moaning in a way he’d never heard before. He was moaning and crying her name into the crook of her neck. His body shook as if jolted by electricity. He was coming, and coming, and coming some more; feeling as if he was going to die if and when he stopped.

After a while, the white noise faded and was followed by silence. It was a comforting silence; Hotch still lying on top of Emily. He was still inside her, losing his vigor by the second, but didn’t care.

He wanted to feel every shiver, every aftershock, hear every little noise that came from her diaphragm and throat. He wanted to tell Emily to touch him, kiss him, but didn’t have to. Her kisses were so sweet; Hotch couldn’t help but want more. Soon he had pulled out of her trembling body but they were kissing and making out like horny teenagers.

“I need to…” he tried to speak but didn’t quite know what to say. How could this moment be both amazing and so confusing?

“Sleep probably.” She whispered in reply, kissing him again.

“Should I…?”

“You better not.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“You think I don’t.” Emily sat up some.

It shocked Hotch that she wasn’t shy about her nudity. Not that he wasn’t lying there as naked as she was. He was usually more modest but they were lying on the covers, he would’ve had to get up to cover himself. Haley always covered herself. Hotch shook off that thought.

Haley and Emily were not even close to being the same person. He hadn't made love to Haley like that since their early years together, if at all. Why the hell was he thinking about his ex-wife when this beautiful woman was lying beside him? She was a beautiful woman with a nipple ring and a belly bar who had just fucked him almost senseless.

The belly bar was sexy but the nipple ring blew his mind. How would he ever look at her the same again, even with clothes? She was sexy as hell. Before this, Hotch could delude himself into thinking of her nothing more than a colleague, a teammate; family even. Seeing her in her most natural state blew that out of the water. Oh shit.

“I should probably clean up the mess.” Emily went to get out of bed.

“In the nude?” Hotch asked. He pulled the covers back on the other side and slid under them. It looked as if he was staying.

“If you want me to.”

“Prentiss…”

“What? You don’t think it’s OK for a woman to do something simply because a man might enjoy it? I think it’s wonderful, as long as it’s not her main focus in life. I also think it’s nice for a man to do the same thing.”

“What could I do that you’d like?” he asked.

“You just did it.”

Emily reached down, grabbed his dress shirt, and slipped it over her naked body. He probably didn’t realize it but he’d love to see her traipsing around in his clothes even more than her own skin. At least he would right now…all of this was still so new.

“What did I do?” Hotch asked. He sat up on his elbow and watched her. This felt too comfortable; there was fear in the pit of his stomach. He still had no intention of getting up and leaving.

“You got under the covers.” She replied.

“You told me to go to sleep.”

“I get to be the boss of you? Since when?”

After throwing everything in the trash, Emily turned off the TV and got in bed beside him. Hotch pulled her close and gave her a goodnight kiss.

“In this room, in this moment, I'm fine with that.” he said. “It’s probably good for me. You’re probably good for me.”

Emily didn’t want to respond to that. She didn’t want to get in too deep. It was one night, on the road during a hard case. They surely weren't the first agents to succumb to something like this. Going back to Quantico, to his office and her desk, to Erin Strauss and their teammates, to his son, his ex-wife, and her cat, would prove if this thing really had traction. And that was something she could not think about right now. So she reached up onto the wall, turned out the light switch, and cuddled in his arms.

“I have to be up early.” He whispered.

“The alarm on my phone is set for 6am.”

“That’s good.” It would give him time to get back to his room without running into people. It wasn’t exactly the walk of shame but Hotch didn’t think they needed to know everything. They probably already suspected things that weren't happening until tonight already were. His profilers were the best after all, even if they weren't supposed to profile each other. “Sweet dreams, Emily.”

“Goodnight.”

She was going to have sweet dreams alright. This might be her one night and she didn’t want to waste it on the things that kept her up at night or the nightmares that sometimes plagued her sleep. In his arms she found comfort. It might not be peace, not yet or ever, but comfort couldn’t be denied. Comfort was actually quite nice.

***

  



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